Page 30 of Margins of Love
Her concentration waned. She was eager to see Fave. Her mind trailed off while her maid pinned up her hair. Rachel had anticipated the inevitable kiss when Fave peeled her gloves off her hands with his teeth. A shiver traveled along her spine at the memory. He had not taken his eyes off hers when his mouth started on her little finger, then moved to the ring finger. His hand had traveled up her arm to her elbow, but she reveled in his touch and was reliving the tingling all over. The warmth in his eyes held a depth that seemed trained to withhold his true feelings. And yet, when he tried the jasmine tea and leaned in for the second kiss, the mystery had been lifted from his gaze. Sincerity in his eyes, Rachel thought she had seen inside of him. If a choir had been handy, that moment would have marked the highest tunes. Her first impression of his cocky impertinence at the library was replaced with the feel of his touch—over and over again. She could not focus on anything but the loop playing in her mind, his lips on hers, the slight scruffiness of his cheeks when he brushed his face against hers. She reveled in the tension that had grown when he took her head in his hand and kissed a path of flames from her mouth to her chin and over her neck.
It was also not quite true that she had not come to the picnic hoping he might kiss her. Neither could she deny that she had known exactly what the touted effects of jasmine tea were, along with oysters, strawberries, and candlelight dinners. Well, short of the oysters, she was willing to try any of the other methods just to feel his warmth on her mouth again. Even though she was surprised by the effect he had on her, his onslaught had been heartily welcome. Who knew what her husband would be like? Surely not as gentle and attractive as Fave. “Oh, Fave.” Her voice echoed in the silence of the room. Knowing all too well that her mind must not, under any circumstances, cross the line to imagining what his broad shoulders would feel like and how exactly he could sweep her off her feet, that was exactly where her mind went. In a straight shot.
Sammy returned with another note in an elegant cream envelope.
“What did he pay you?”
“Nothing. He promised me a fencing lesson,” Sammy beamed.
Oh my, her mother would not approve of that. But Rachel sent Sammy away so she could read the note:
Do not toy with my heart.
At dinner, she slid Fave a folded message.
You did not say when to meet you. What do you have in mind?
When she was brushing her hair that evening, the shadow under the door reappeared. Another note slid under the door.
If you must know, my dear, only pleasure and excitement are on my mind.
I am waiting for you there now.
She felt brazen.Her palms grew cold and sweaty. It was entirely forbidden to meet with him. She blasted all bounds of respectability and risked her entire future by stealing moments alone with Fave. Without even tying her hair, she rushed to him.
Her legs carried her before her mind was made up.
She walked fast through the dark corridors, heading straight for the gardens. The layers of her dinner gown caught between her legs. Luckily, the double doors to the gardens were unlocked and barely screeched when she opened them—she hoped her unchaperoned escape would remain unnoticed. Luck would prevail over caution, but she did not care. Once outside, Rachel felt the cold of the night. She sprinted past the now familiar shrubs and spring flowers, and oriented herself easily in the intricate landscaping. By the time she saw his silhouette under the beautiful old willow, she was running. She could not get to him fast enough.
He straightened when he saw her, and beamed a wide white smile that squeezed her heart. He was so handsome, his sideways smile alluring. She forgot to slow down and ran right into him. They tumbled onto the ground.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her back. “You came!”
“I… I… am sorry I…” Rachel was embarrassed for charging at him with her childish excitement.
“I would not have it any other way,” Fave said softly. He smiled so sincerely that her heart leaped. She knew she had fallen—and not just onto the grass. Deeply. Rachel swept all the thoughts of the trouble this would cause to a corner of her heart that she wished she could put in a far-away vault. She decided to enjoy Fave. Now. Here.
She straightened up and sat next to him. “I am so sorry.” He seemed unhurt, yet she was embarrassed for knocking him into the damp grass.
“It is completely and utterly all right.” He looked down and drew circles in the grass with his index finger. “I asked you here to discuss something.”
Rachel’s heart flipped again. Was he going to tell her he loved her? It was too soon, wasn’t it? And she was not allowed to accept his courtship. Fear sent a chill along her spine. She should not encourage him. And yet, it felt so good to be close to him and feel his raw appeal crackling around her.
“Murmuration…”
Fave cupped her chin. “What did you say?”
“When a flock of birds, starlings, for example, take flight together and sweep wildly through the air, it’s called murmuration,” Rachel explained. Then she dropped her head in defeat. Hadn’t she promised herself no more trivia?
Fave tilted his head but remained silent.
“I… ahm… it’s how my heart flips when you look at me like this. Like a flock of birds taking flight in my chest…” She was embarrassed.
But Fave leaned closer and spoke against her mouth, “You are so sweet, Rachel, so sweet, and so smart.”
She nodded gravely.
“I know that there are certain… ahm … certain… intimacies, yes, that’s the term…”
